Running With Scissors
by Bunny on the Moon
Summary: ON HIATUS. AU, eventual slash. Otogi, Malik, Ryou, and Yami were the most talented amateur rock band in Domino. However, when Otogi abandons the band for his own gain, what can the others do to reclaim their status?
1. Chapter 1

Let's just get to the point. YGO isn't mine! Trust me, if it were, then Malik would have lots more screentime. So there. Anyway. This is my first attempt at an AU fic. Meaning there could possibly be OOCness; hopefully not too bad. And also yaoi. And good, nice citrus-y content. And any lyrics you may see throughout this fic are mine. There are also OCs, though I've worked out a bunch of their kinks and _hopefully_ they're not Sues/Stus. And there is also a lack of certain characters. And don't come crying to me if a certain pairing pisses you off, you can just stuff it and go read another fanfic... -restrains her yami- Ahem. Anyway. 8D Now, I bring you...

* * *

**Running With Scissors  
**by Usagi

Chapter 1

Slam. "You **what**?"

Smirk. "I said, I signed the deal with Takanaka."

Glare. "Damnit, Otogi! Not Takanaka! That guy's a complete asshole!"

Otogi Ryuuji merely folded his hands in front of him, a light smirk on his face as the Egyptian in front of him ranted and raved about said 'asshole'. "He may be an asshole, Ishtar, but he'll carry us all the way. Isn't that what you said you wanted for this band?"

Malik Ishtar stopped his pacing, and glared at Ryuuji straight in the eyes. "Taka-fucking-naka is **not** what I said I wanted! I don't care **who** we get as a manager, as long as it's not... him!" He ran his hand through his blonde bangs, ignoring the light sweat that had broken out on his forehead.

"Malik-kun is right, Otogi-kun..." Bakura Ryou broke in quietly. "Our agreement was that you at least discuss the matter with us before you decide anything for this group. We're in this band too... we should have a say in what happens to it. Takanaka is... not good for us."

"You might as well be talking to a brick wall, Ryou," Mutou Yami quipped from his seat on the other end of the room. "A brick wall with a stick up a very unpleasant place."

"Mutou, you talk about me as if I'm not even here. I'm hurt," Ryuuji chirped in false dejection. His casual smirk suddenly disappeared, expression turning serious. "Takanaka Reiji is the greatest band manager in Japan. You three should be jumping out of your seats to have him." It was true; Takanaka led a good deal of bands to stardom, but unfortunately, it was a double-edged sword. He had been known for blackmailing others in order to get his way, and had even been suspected of hiring men to attack the city's well-known citizens. Nobody knew why he did it - perhaps it was for a shot at glory, or just another way to get his name in the papers.

One of the unfortunate people had been Malik's sister Isis. Malik scowled and crossed his arms. If looks could kill, Ryuuji would've been a corpse right about now. "You don't even fucking **know** that man, Otogi," he growled, "or what he did to my sister. These two are with me," he motioned to Yami and Ryou, who both nodded, "we will absolutely NOT have Takanaka as our manager."

Ryuuji scowled, standing up. "Fine," he said lowly, "you three can go off on your own and not make it in the music world, for all I care. But I **will** make it, and I'll do it without the three of you." With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the house.

"... So that's it?" Malik called after him. "You're fucking leaving us?" No answer. "**Fine**!" He yelled, not caring if Ryuuji had heard him or not. "You think you're such a badass, but we'll show you! Plastic Samurai will be the best band in Domino, with or without your help!"

Ryou shot a worried glance at Yami, then stood up and cautiously approached Malik. He knew what the other was like when he was angry; sometimes he could get downright violent. "Malik-kun..." He laid his hand on Malik's shoulder, but was surprised at how calm the blonde felt.

Malik turned around to look at his two friends, a determined smile on his face. "Look, guys. We don't need that anal-retentive bastard to have a good band. Just watch, we'll be at the top of the charts before you know it."

* * *

"Ishtar! Would you **please** stop daydreaming and answer the question?"

The teacher's angry voice broke Malik's thoughts, and he looked up to find the old woman pointing her yardstick at him. "Um... 42?" he muttered, causing the class to erupt with laughter.

"Yes, perhaps that would've been the answer three hours ago, but if you would look at the question on the board, then maybe you'll be able to formulate a better one."

Malik looked up at the blackboard to find that the question had nothing to do with math. He sighed and smacked his forehead, triggering another round of laughter from the class. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he had completely forgotten what class he was in! He glared down at his desk in an attempt to hide the angry blush on his face.

_Otogi might have been right_, he thought. It had been three months since Otogi Ryuuji had left the band. 'The band' being Plastic Samurai - one that was composed of Ryuuji, Mutou Yami, Bakura Ryou, and himself. They were pretty good for a band of teenagers, and needed a little boost to get their start in the music world. 'Boost' being a manager - and Ryuuji had signed them up with the last person they wanted for the job. In all honesty, Malik wasn't sure that they even needed a manager to get a jump start, but he didn't know how long they'd be able to stay independent.

After Ryuuji's departure, Plastic Samurai's fan base had gone downhill. It seemed that the only one the fans cared about was the singer, and they were not too happy about getting a new vocalist. Malik had taken over the job when Ryuuji left; before, he, Ryuuji, and Yami all sang simultaneously. While hard to organize - synchronizing three voices at once took quite a bit of work, at least for them - they had sounded quite good. Now that it was just Malik, the band didn't really have the 'oomph' that it used to have. Even after the band had gained a new member a month and a half after Ryuuji's departure, there still wasn't much in the way of improvement.

The teacher's voice brought Malik out of his mind again. "Well? Do you have an answer or not?"

"Uh..." He didn't. He hadn't even paid attention the whole class period. Luckily, the bell rang, signaling the end of the period - and the beginning of lunch. Malik let out a breath as he watched the old woman pack up her things and head out of the classroom. "Old hag..." he muttered under his breath, before reaching into his bag.

"Man, she really put you on the spot, eh Ishtar?" a voice quipped from nearby. Malik looked up to see the bright red head of Kumori Akihiko standing over him, an amused smirk on his face. Akihiko was the new member of Plastic Samurai, and he had brought the power of drums into the band. He, along with Yami and Ryou, had gathered around Malik's desk, their box lunches in hand.

The Egyptian sighed. "Yeah. I hate that woman..." he said, pulling his own box lunch from his bag.

Yami, the bassist of Plastic Samurai, sat down in the empty desk across from Malik. "You're lucky the bell rang when it did, or else you would be in detention again," he said, causing Malik to roll his eyes. It was true: the great Malik Ishtar had been in detention, on more than one occasion. However, he wasn't looking to get into any trouble today - he had band practice, after all.

"Oh, that reminds me..." Ryou muttered from his seat behind Malik. "I can't make practice today." Ryou played the synthesizer, and was a big element of the overall sound of the band.

"What? Why not?" Malik asked, asit was rare that Ryou missed practices, his other extracurricular activities aside. In addition to the lead vocals, he was also the guitarist.

"Student council meeting," Ryou replied sheepishly. He was the vice-president of said council, and therefore couldn't make as many band practices as the other boys could.

"Bakura, don't they usually tell you at the beginning of the week when meetings are?" Akihiko said from his seat behind Yami.

"Well, yes... we were supposed to have one tomorrow, but the president will be unavailable, so we had to reschedule... we're supposed to come up with ideas for fundraisers, to raise money for the winter festival." Ryou guiltily looked down at his lap. He felt bad about having to miss practice, but a vice-president had to do what a vice-president had to do.

"I guess we'll just have to have a brainstorming session rather than an actual practice, then..." Malik said, taking a bite out of his riceball. The four teens were quiet for a moment, then Ryou spoke up again.

"Actually... I had an idea that could help us out too," he said. The other three looked at him in curiosity. "I was thinking that we could hold a talent show... not only would it raise money, but it may help us find the boost that we need for the band. We can draw inspiration from other musicians... and, you never know who could be in the audience, too."

"So in other words, we're becoming talent scouts," Yami said.

"More or less."

"I think it's a great idea," Akihiko said, his mouth full of cookie.

"Of course you do, Kumori. You think everything's a good idea," Malik commented, flicking a small chunk of rice at the redhead.

"Whaaaaaat?" Akihiko said, blocking his face from said chunk. "So I'm more open-minded than the rest of you..."

"What do you think, Malik-kun?" Ryou asked, turning to the blonde.

Malik chewed on his riceball thoughtfully for a few moments before swallowing. He hesitated for a couple of seconds, then answered the question. "Well... I'm willing to do whatever it takes to give Plastic Samurai a jump start into the real world, so... go for it, Ryou. If you guys can get one organized, then I'm not stopping you."

Yami was still skeptical. "I'm assuming we're going to perform in it, if it does get organized?"

"I guess so... why wouldn't we?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's just that fact that we're not very good, is all..."

Akihiko reached over and tugged on Yami's yellow bangs. "Aw, c'mon Mutou, what kind of attitude is that?"

The crimson-eyed boy lightly batted the Akihiko's hand away, and rested his chin in his hand. "Bah."

The four boys spent the rest of the lunch period talking about random other subjects. After finishing his lunch, Malik stood and picked up his bag. "I'm going down to the library."

Yami nearly snorted water up his nose. "You? Library? That's new." He knew that Malik had gone to the library a few times before, but he didn't know it was a daily thing.

The Egyptian shot a light glare at him. "I'm studying for that English exam tomorrow. I'm **failing** I have to pass, or my sister's going to disown me or something. 'Malik, you're not focusing on your studies enough'. 'Malik, you're spending too much time practicing and not enough time studying'. In other words, Plastic Samurai is screwed if I fail."

Yami got the point.

"Oh, Malik-kun..." Ryou started, reaching into his bag. Malik raised an eyebrow at him, and the white-haired boy pulled out a rather large book. "Since you're going there anyway, would you mind returning this for me?" he asked.

"Sure," Malik said, taking the book and placing it at the top of his bag.

"Thanks," Ryou said, smiling.

Malik returned the smile, hoisting his bag up on one shoulder; with the addition of Ryou's book, it was a bit heavier than usual. "No problem. I guess I'll see you guys later, then." With that, he exited the classroom, waving briefly on his way out.

The library was quite a walk from where the classroom was, so Malik passed the time by taking a look at the book Ryou had asked him to return. He felt a bit unnerved as he read the title of said book: "Dawn of the Vampires". He'd known that his friend was into the occult, but this was just odd. Maybe Ryou wasn't as calm and innocent as he seemed to be...

Malik had started flipping through the book, grimacing at some of the scenes. He definitely did not expect Ryou to read such violent text! Some of the illustrations weren't too pleasant, either...Since he wascompletely absorbed in the book, the blonde failed to notice the small spill on the hallway floor in front of him, or the girl who had bent down to tie her shoe.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed as he suddenly felt his feet slide out from underneath him, and he stumbled forward, flailing in an attempt to keep his balance. He failed miserably; rather than hitting the floor below, he ran into the girl who had just stood up, taking them both down.

"What the **fuck**?" he heard the girl say, as he cautiously opened one eye. His face turned beet red as he realized what had happened: he, like the klutz he was at times, had slipped on a puddle that had not been cleaned up, and was now laying on top of a girl who looked about ready to castrate him. Great, just great.

"Save that for after school, Ishtar!" a boy's voice jokingly mocked.

"Haha, the poor girl hasn't even been here for a whole day and Ishtar's already trying to take her," another one said.

Malik carefully pushed himself up off of said girl, afraid that he had crushed her - she was pretty thin. "Uh, sorry," he said, unnerved by the angry green eyes that stared back at him. He was also pretty angry at some of the comments he was getting, but what could he do? He reached down to help the girl up, but frowned when she stood up on her own, picking up the book he had dropped when he fell. She looked at the cover for a minute, then roughly tossed it to Malik.

"Watch where you're going next time," she spat. The girl was quite tall - almost as tall as Malik - but was very slim, almost bony in a few places. Her black hair reached a bit past her shoulders, and long bangs covered the whole left side of her face; a streak of bright pink ran through them. The only other thing that stood out about her appearance was the ankle-length skirt: a sign of rebellion.

Malik caught the book and stared at her as she walked off, dumbfounded. She certainly had a bit of an attitude problem. It had been a while since someone had given him that kind of attitude, yet Malik figured he was probably lucky that that was all she had given him. She had looked like she was either going to kill him or beat him within an inch of his life when he had fallen into her, and considering how angry she looked, it probably would've hurt too.

The Egyptian sighed, muttering something about his 'stupid bad luck', and continued on his way to the library.

* * *

"Okay, let's run through it again," Malik said, brushing his blonde bangs out of his face.

It had been two days since Ryou had proposed the idea of a talent show, and it had gone over well with the rest of the student council. The show had been scheduled for the first weekend of October, which gave the participants two weeks to prepare themselves. Of course, Plastic Samurai had signed up, and were currently having a practice in the basement of the Kame Game Shop, where Yami lived.

"But we've done it five times already," Akihiko said, exasperated. Playing the drums was hard work, and this particular song had some difficult riffs. He wasn't too pleased with the others' decision of which of their songs to play at the show, but he'd been overruled.

"Well, if this is the one we're going to do at the talent show, then we've got to get it right," Malik said, rubbing the back of his neck. It was drenched in sweat.

"We have two weeks to get it right, Malik-kun," Ryou said. "Besides... I think we could use a break anyway." It was strangely hot for a September day in Japan, and being cooped up in a basement wasn't helping.

Malik sighed, defeated. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he said. "I'm hungry anyway." With that, the four teens headed up the basement stairs up into the kitchen - a house was adjoined to the game shop.

Akihiko made a beeline for the pantry. "What've you got to eat in here, Mutou?" He opened the door, scanning the contents.

"Just look around, there's all kinds of stuff in there. Instant ramen, potato chips, I think there's a few boxes of Pocky in there..." Yami said, but was cut off by Malik.

"Pocky? Where?" He nudged Akihiko aside, looking for the aforementioned snack. "Oooh, strawberry." He quickly grabbed a box before anyone else could get to it, then grinned and took a pack out.

"Gee, Ishtar, thanks for sharing," Akihiko said sarcastically, as he resumed looking for something for himself to munch on.

"I think I'll just have something to drink..." Ryou said, as he took a can of soda out of the fridge. Yami was used to the guys raiding his kitchen; it was part of their daily 'ritual'.

Yami shrugged, taking a bag of chips from the pantry. "Help yourself, you know where everything is."

"Anikiiii! You're not going to eat all of my chips, are you?" a voice said from the doorway of the kitchen. The four boys turned to see a younger, smaller carbon copy of Yami walking in - it was his brother, Yuugi.

"No, I'm not going to eat all of your chips, aibou," Yami said, grinning at his brother. 'Aibou' was his little nickname for the younger Mutou, and Yuugi's grin matched Yami's upon hearing it.

"Give me some, then." He reached into the bag and took and handful. "Hi," he said, waving to the other three boys with his free hand.

"Hey, Yuugi," Malik said, a stick of Pocky hanging from his mouth. "What's up?"

Yuugi smiled at the Egyptian, holding up a deck of cards. "I've been perfecting my dueling deck. What about you guys?"

"We're going to enter the talent show at school," Akihiko said, having finally decided on something to snack on, and he sat down at the kitchen table with a box of cookies.

"Yeah, aniki told me about that. I wish the first-year students could enter..." Yuugi sighed. The student council had decided that the show was only open to the third-year students, but anyone could come to see it.

"Aw, don't worry Yuugi-kun, you'll be a third-year student soon enough," Ryou said, ruffling the small boy's hair. "If this goes well, we'll probably have a talent show every year."

"I still don't really like the idea of becoming talent scouts for this," Yami said, munching on a chip. "We don't know what exactly we're looking for, or if anyone in else in this blasted school has any talent..."

"Well, I guess it's just a gamble," Malik said, before munching on another Pocky stick. "Maybe we'll find some inspiration from someone, or hell - maybe another new member is what we need."

"Another one? But I'm the new one," Akihiko said, fake pouting.

"Look at it this way, Kumori... in five years, you won't be."

"Ah, shut up."

"Bite me."

"I'd love to!"

"Guys, guys... not in front of Yuugi-kun," Ryou said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Aw, come on... I'm fifteen, it's nothing I haven't heard before," Yuugi protested, giggling.

Malik grinned. Ryou and Akihiko were right; he had needed to loosen up a bit. He was sure that their group would do well in the talent show, and who knew? Perhaps they would find the bit of inspiration they needed from someone else. Only time would tell...

* * *

"Hmph... they needed me, whether they wanted to admit it or not."

A reflection of the computer screen gleamed in the cold green eyes of the teenage boy who sat at his computer. He looked at the small website that had been set up for Plastic Samurai, and the boy listened to a sample of one of their songs.

"Those fools... they've completely destroyed themselves. If only Ishtar wasn't so anal-retentive about having Takanaka as the manager, then we would be at the top of the charts by now..."

Otogi Ryuuji smirked as he closed his internet browser. At the talent show in a couple of weeks, he would show them what it means to be a successful rock band. Then they'd be begging him to come back. Not like he would go back, anyway...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"There are a lot of people out there, guys..." Ryou said nervously as he and Akihiko came back from taking a peek out of the curtains.

After two long and grueling weeks, the day of the Domino High talent show had finally arrived, and the boys were somewhat jittery. For Malik, Ryou, and Yami, it was their first time performing onstage in quite a while, and for Akihiko, it was his first time period. It didn't make a lot of sense for them to be nervous, since they were performing in front of their own peers, but they were anyway - before Ryuuji's departure, they'd often played at small clubs, and now they might as well have dropped off the face of the planet.

"Hm. I've been scoping out some of the competition," Yami said, looking around backstage. Twenty performances from around the school had been accepted to be in the show, and a few of them were made up of small groups of people. There were around fifty people warming up backstage, and a few of the groups appeared to be other bands; perhaps there were even some solo performers there as well. After all, music was a pretty big thing in Domino City, so it should've been obvious that there would be several musical acts. "It looks like quite a few people are going to sing. I don't know how we can find inspiration from this crowd."

"Don't be such a stiff, Mutou," Akihiko said, straightening out the collar of his uniform. The four boys had decided to wear their school uniforms while performing; it gave them a look of unity, something a lot of high-school-age bands lacked these days. Akihiko had the first few buttons open on his blue jacket, Ryou's was completely buttoned, Malik's was unbuttoned to show the white tank top underneath, and Yami had his unbuttoned with his trademark black leather shirt under it. "Don't knock 'em until you hear 'em."

"Siding with the enemy, Kumori?" Malik teased, shooting a sidelong glance at the redhead as he tuned his guitar. The school had provided large equipment for the performing bands to use, such as drums and keyboards, but students had to bring their own smaller equipment, like guitars.

"Who needs enemies with a friend like you?" Akihiko shot back. The Egyptian stuck his tongue out at him. "Don't show me that unless you're going to use it," he said lustily, winking.

"Oi, Bakura-kun!" a sudden voice interjected, catching the attention of the white-haired boy as well as the others. Another boy with short brown hair and glasses approached, looking somewhat nervous. It was the class president, Nishimura Takeo, who Ryou had helped coordinate the talent show with.

"Yes, Nishimura-kun?" Ryou asked.

"We need to get started, it's five minutes past six... and I think the audience is starting to get restless," Takeo said, wiping his brow.

"Alright. Are you going to make the opening speech, or shall I?"

"You do it; I don't think I can..." Even though he was the class president, Takeo was just a bit on the jittery side and couldn't do public announcements without becoming shaky. "I-I'll round everyone up and tell them it's time," he stammered. Ryou exchanged glances with Malik, Akihiko, and Yami, and shrugged.

"O-okay, people..." Takeo called out to everyone who was backstage. He had gotten on top of a nearby table so everyone could see him. "We're going to get started here in just a minute, so if the first act would please prepare themselves on stage, it would be a big help!" Takeo then made a gesture toward Ryou, who nodded and walked out onto the stage in front of the curtain.

Malik, Yami, and Akihiko grew somewhat tense as they heard the audience die down and Ryou began speaking. They were scheduled to perform eighth, following some 'Kouryuu' person.

"So, Kumori," Malik quietly started, "you're about to perform live for an audience for the first time. You nervous at all?"

"Nah," Akihiko whispered, shaking his head. "I've been through worse..." Malik and Yami exchanged a glance, and the former quirked an eyebrow at the redhead. "...okay, fine, I'm scared **shitless**."

"Thought so," Yami said. "You're shaking."

"Am not..." Akihiko held up his hand, which was indeed quivering. "...oh, fuck, I **am** shaking..."

"Don't worry about it," Malik said. "Once you get going it'll feel like just another practice... except now you have two hundred people staring at you."

"Oh, thanks a fucking lot, Ishtar, I feel so much better now..." Akihiko said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Aw, cheer up, Kumori-kun..." Ryou's soft voice said from behind him, signaling that he had returned. "Malik-kun's just giving you a hard time since he has the easy job..."

"Hey now... if anyone, Yami's got the easy job," Malik said, pointing at their spiky-haired friend. "He only has to worry about playing bass. I've gotta juggle the guitar and singing, and it's **not** as easy as it sounds... Kumori there has to bang up on drums constantly, and considering we have to do this under really bright stage lights, he's going to get all hot and sweaty while doing so. And guess who gets to deal with him afterwards because he's so nice like that? Why, it's our little synthesizer player Ryou-chan, whose only job is to make everything not suck."

"You say that like being all hot and sweaty is a bad thing..." Akihiko said, fake-pouting.

"Add it to the fact that hot and sweaty drummers make the girls all hot and bothered, and then it **is** a bad thing... for you, at least," Malik added.

"Oh, **ew**!" Akihiko shuddered. "Why in the nine hells did you say that, Ishtar! Ew ew **ew**!"

"Guys, shh..." Ryou said. "We need to be quiet while there are people on stage... I'll bet half of the audience just heard that comment, Malik-kun."

"...fuck." Malik's face turned a deep red and he crossed his arms, looking down at the floor.

At least half an hour had passed before it was time for the four boys to start preparing their performance. After discussing it for a long while - though it was more like Akihiko versus the other three, as he still wasn't too comfortable with some of the drum riffs - they'd decided to perform 'Chaos'. However, they had to cut the song down to less than three minutes, which wasn't that much of a problem. It was a requirement of all participants who were going to sing. Only a couple of groups had sang so far; most of the time that had passed was due to time taken in-between performances to set up for the next one.

Takeo had worked up the courage to go out and introduce every act, and now he had gone up to introduce the seventh performer - one who shot Malik a particularly nasty glare as she passed by the four members of Plastic Samurai on her way to the stage.

"Oh **crap**..." Malik muttered under his breath, averting his gaze from the girl that he had knocked down in the hallway a few weeks ago.

"Uh, Malik?" Yami asked. "What was that all about?"

"I'll tell you later..." the Egyptian trailed off as he heard Takeo begin to announce the next act.

"And now, our seventh participant is new to Domino High... but give her the same amount of respect as you've given everyone else today!" This statement drew a few groans from the audience. "...Anyway, give your attention to act number seven, Kouryuu Hotaru-san... she will be singing to a song called 'Chaos', one that I'm sure quite a few of you are familiar with..."

"What the hell?" Malik said, confused. "He couldn't mean... our song, could he!"

"Now now, Malik-kun... use a little common sense, I'm sure it's a different song..." Ryou said, always the rational one - though inwardly, he was actually a little curious about that himself.

The four boys watched from the right side of the backstage area as the girl named Hotaru began singing, her expression a complete blank. She also wore her school uniform, but had added a large number of chains and leather items such as cuffs and collars.

Sure enough, the song started out very different from their own Chaos. Instead of the quiet guitar riff which started their song out, Hotaru's was more of a slow, depressing piano rhythm.

_There's a certain emptiness  
__That I cannot shake  
__I've had enough of this life  
__I've had more than I can take_

_Sometimes I have to wonder  
__About my lot in life  
__Is there a reason that I still live  
__Through all of the chaos and strife?_

_Is there a reason that I still break  
__Like the rusty blade of a knife?_

At this point in the song, the music erupted into a faster-paced, yet still depressing melody. Instead of that same look of indifference she always showed, her face had softened considerably, and she seemed to be really getting into the song - reaching out to the crowd, swaying slightly to the beat of the music.

_There's more to this than I can see  
__Because I can still dream  
__There's something out there that I need  
__That will help me believe  
__That I can gain the strength I seek  
__To face the world though it looks bleak  
__To pass through all of the chaos and strife  
__So I can reclaim my life_

When Hotaru finished singing, the music returned to its slow pace, and when it ended, the audience was silent for a few moments. With the same emotionless facade she had when she had first stepped onto the stage, Hotaru began to walk off, but stopped as the audience suddenly went up in a frenzy of cheers, startling the girl. She blinked in surprise for a moment, then kept walking toward the backstage area, passing by four dumbfounded boys.

"... That girl can really sing," Yami commented.

"No kidding..." Malik said. He was actually pretty surprised by the girl's performance; her voice was rather deep - although Malik had only heard a few words of it - but was very strong and clear as a bell. She'd also had a great stage presence... she was going to be a tough act to follow.

The blonde's thoughts were interrupted when he was nudged by Akihiko. "Get a move-on, Ishtar! It's time for us to do our **thing**!"

"Do you realize how bad that sounds coming from you, Kumori?" Malik jokingly asked as he walked out onto the stage. The curtain had been drawn so that the boys could prepare for their performance.

After Akihiko had taken his place at the drum set, Ryou at the synthesizer, Malik at the mic, and the two guitarists had their instruments tuned, Malik nodded at Takeo, who had been standing backstage, waiting for the group to give the signal that they were ready. The brunette nodded and walked out onto the stage, in front of the drawn curtain.

"Now... you may be familiar with our next contestants. I-It seems that they were quite popular back in the day, but now they're just a bit different. Consisting of Kumori Akihiko on drums, Bakura Ryou on the synthesizer, Mutou Yami on bass, and Malik Ishtar on guitar and vocals, act number eight will be p-performing their original song... er, 'Chaos'... anyway, give your attention to Plastic Samurai!"

As soon as Takeo had said their names, a groan had gone up from the audience. Malik tried not to look pissed as the curtains opened up, and he began playing the long, quiet, almost acoustic-sounding guitar riff that started off the song. This riff lasted for about thirty seconds, and the few boos that they were getting signaled that the audience was getting bored.

At the end of the riff, Malik turned and nodded at the other boys. It was time to **rock**.

* * *

_Hmm..._ The blonde woman in the audience peered over the tops of her sunglasses as the four boys on stage quickly moved into a heavier, more hardcore section of their song, living up to its name of 'Chaos'. _I can see some definite potential here... _She quickly jotted down the name of the band on a small lavender stationery pad.

_DESTRUCTION is imminent, humanity has failed  
__OBLIVION is inevitable, destiny is detailed  
__ARMAGEDDON is inescapable, future is unveiled  
__Unpredictable, inconceivable,  
__Unacceptable, unbelievable  
__All that faces us is LOSS_

The woman, a small smile on her face, listened as the band did a few more verses and ended their song. Unfortunately, she was one of the few people in the audience who actually clapped for them, which was quite a shame, as she had enjoyed their performance very much. _I'll have to have a few words with them once this whole show is over with..._

* * *

As soon as the curtains drew shut, the four boys hauled themselves off of the stage, back into the backstage area.

Needless to say, Malik was in a very bad mood.

"Assholes," he grumbled under his breath, "can't appreciate good fucking music when they hear it..." He heavily sat down in a nearby chair and crossed his arms.

"Oh, that was so **fun** though..." Akihiko said, somewhat out of breath. "I could get to liking this..." He wiped his damp forehead with the back of his sleeve; Malik had been right, it was hot under those stage lights..

Ryou knelt down next to the chair in which Malik was sitting. "Don't worry about what the audience thinks, Malik-kun... what matters is what the judges say. Who knows, they could have a completely different opinion," he said, in an attempt to calm the Egyptian down.

Yami found himself agreeing with Ryou. "We did the best we could out there, I guess. If the people don't like it, too bad for them."

"Guys... you're missing the point," Malik said, looking up at his friends. "This isn't about impressing the judges... Yami, Ryou, you remember how the audience would get back when Otogi was with us? I want it to be like that again... when we'd actually get a standing ovation after every gig..."

Ryou sighed. "I admit, that was a nice feeling..."

"I guess you're right..." Yami said, his voice taking on the same hopeless tone that the other two boys had.

Akihiko, on the other hand, was fairly happy. "Lighten up, guys. The fans just need to get used to the fact that they have a sexy drummer now. Hell, they all just couldn't cheer for us because they were too shocked," he mused, crossing his arms behind his head. "I mean, look at us. We're a damn sexy band."

"Leave it to Kumori-kun to point something like that out..." Ryou said, smiling slightly. The redhead had always had a way with words; sometimes he knew just the right things to say to make others laugh.

The four boys' chatter died down as the class president once again headed out to the stage to introduce the next performance. "Act number nine is another musical p-performance, this time by one of our newer local bands. Give a round of applause for... Eeg... Yigg? No, no... Yggdrasil, with their original song, 'Sun and Moon'!"

This band consisted of four members. All four of them were dressed in black slacks and silk shirts of various colors; behind the drums was a guy with brown hair pointed up into a tall fin shape. There were two guitarists; the tanned one had spiky dark blue hair, and the other had a messy head of golden blonde hair. The vocalist happened to be an all-too-familiar ponytailed boy... As their music started up, said boy turned and shot Malik an unnerving smirk.

Otogi Ryuuji.

Malik's jaw dropped. "No. Fucking. Way..."

Yami's reaction was similar. "Oh Gods..." He buried his face in one palm. "We're screwed."

Ryou was a bit calmer than his two compatriots, but he still let out an exasperated sigh, turning away. "I can't watch this..."

Akihiko merely blinked. So this was the infamous Ryuuji... He watched quietly, unimpressed. So the guy was hot as all hell, and **had** been in the band before him... but still, he didn't know why the others were so pissed off, aside from the fact that Ryuuji had left them. ...Not to mention his bandmates were also sexy... that blonde one, particularly so...

_Fair moon, you caress me with your gentle light  
__Strong sun, you burn me with your unbearable might  
__Lovely moon, you bathe me in everlasting peace  
__Blazing sun, you char me and never cease_

* * *

"Hmm... what did you think about them? I thought they were pretty good, don't you?" 

"You know, at this point, I don't really **care** about it anymore... we've been looking for **how** long, now? I just don't see the point. We're **not** going to find anyone."

"You don't mean that."

"...No, I don't."

"So, why are you so hopeless? And you didn't answer my question."

"Look, if you want my honest opinion, I thought they sucked. Bad. There's no way I could be with them. Why the fuck do I need a backup band, anyway? I can do just fine by myself."

"Now, now... you might be good at writing lyrics, but... you know I've heard your attempts at writing music."

"Oh God, **don't** remind me."

"I won't. You and I both know how bad you are at it. But... I don't think you think they truly... 'sucked', as you put it. They just need to approach this whole thing a bit differently."

"...Yeah, I **guess**."

"So, do you want me to at least talk to them? I've heard of them before, you know. I keep up with the city news. I read about their breakup. Mazaki really went in-depth with that one... their main vocalist left them for his own gain... now they're just trying to pull the pieces back together, and they may need help. Which is where you come in."

"...Whatever. I don't care. If you talk to them, and they want me in, fine. If they don't, fine. I... I'm just **tired** of waiting."

"...Look. I've known you for... how long now?"

"Twelve years. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I **know** you. I know you as well as I knew your sister. You two are just alike, you know... it's been your dream to be in a band for as long as I can remember. Now that I have connections, are you saying you just want to walk away from your dream when I can help you reach it?"

"...You're not taking 'no' for an answer, are you?"

"Nope."

"Okay. Then talk to them. Whatever, I'm leaving."

"Wait, don't you want to stay and hear the winners?"

"No. I don't care. Call me later and tell me if you want to. I'm going home and going to bed."

"...Suit yourself."

* * *

"That fucker! Who the fuck does he think he is? What the fuck is he doing, going off and starting another band? When the fuck did that happen in the first place? Why the fuck-" 

Yami sighed as Malik continued to rant and rave. He could feel a headache coming coming on. Luckily for them, it was intermission, and Malik had gone out into the school courtyard to let off some steam. Yami slowly massaged his temples, wondering why he'd even followed Malik out there.

"I swear, this is fucking bullshit, man..." Malik grumbled as he flopped down on the bench next to Yami. "God, now I'm fucking GLAD Otogi left us. Bastard."

Yami rolled his eyes. He had a feeling that Malik was imagining Ryuuji tied to a spinning wheel, throwing daggers at his genitals. He probably wasn't too far off, either.

Neither of the two boys noticed the person approaching them until a voice broke them from their thoughts. "Excuse me... are you Malik Ishtar of Plastic Samurai?"

Malik looked up at the new arrival, about ready to vent his anger onto them. "Yeah, what's it to y-" He cut himself off when he actually **saw** the person. He was sure Yami was as surprised as he was - standing before them was a tall woman who looked several years older than themselves, but there was no denying that she was gorgeous: she had a mass of curly blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail and violet eyes - just a few shades off of Yami's, to be exact - and was dressed almost entirely in purple. She was carrying a small lavender stationery pad. "Uh... yeah, I'm Malik," he said, his previous anger all but diminished.

The blonde woman smiled at the two boys. "My name is Kujaku Mai... if you don't mind, I'd like to have a few words with you and the other band members after the judges announce the winners. Though there are still several performances to go... I wasn't sure how long you'd be staying afterwards."

Malik and Yami exchanged a look. "Um... sure, I guess," Malik said, rubbing the back of his neck. This woman wasn't a reporter or anything, was she?

"Great," she replied before reaching into her purse, pulling out a shiny purple pen topped with feathers, and jotting something down onto her stationary pad. "So I'll talk to you boys later, then?" She received two nods in response. "Awesome." She threw a wink at them, before turning around and sauntering off.

Malik blinked. "...What in the world was **that** about?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

If one were to look into the mind of Malik Ishtar at this moment, they'd find themselves just as confused as he was. He was torn between varying emotions - or rather, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to break things or bounce off of the walls with glee. He was currently laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling while he tried to figure out whether he was happy or pissed off. Of course, these emotions weren't unfounded; he had good reason for both, it was just a matter of deciding which one felt more right at the time.

Flash back to roughly two hours ago: the talent show had almost come to a close, and there were only two performances left before the judges were to make their decisions. Malik had been sitting backwards in a chair, trying to make some sense out of what the wannabe comedian on stage was saying. Honestly, he'd found himself more amused by the fact that the legs of his chair weren't even, and the slight rocking motion he'd made had been more than enough to display how bored he'd been.

He hadn't been in the best of moods then, as he'd kept on receiving nasty glares from 1) a certain former bandmate who had nothing better to do than mock him, and 2) a certain young lady he'd happened to knock down in the hallway a few weeks prior. He'd countered with glares of his own, and while it had been a good half hour since he'd stopped feeling the gaze of the latter recipient, he was still pissed off about it.

It wasn't like he had **meant** to knock her over. Some jerk had spilled something - possibly soda - in the middle of the hallway, and Malik had failed to see the puddle since he'd been engrossed in the violent text that his friend had kindly asked him to return to the library. He was fairly sure the girl hadn't seen him coming either, but while Malik considered both of them to be at fault, he felt as if she were blaming **him** for the entire thing.

_Fuck that,_ he'd thought. _I don't care if I nearly broke her back, she saw me coming and should've gotten out of the way_.

This didn't piss Malik off so much as an event that had happened in the next half hour, however. All of the performances had ended, the judges had been given time to tally their scores to see who in this school would come out on top. The four boys weren't exactly concerned with **winning**, per se - they at least wanted to beat Otogi Ryuuji and his **new** band, just so they could wipe that smirk off the bastard's face. Although, the set of gift certificates to one of the most expensive sushi bars in the city **was** appealing...

Unfortunately for Plastic Samurai, they hadn't even **placed**.

Third place went to a group of girls who had done a rather impressive jump-rope routine. _I thought people stopped jumping rope when they got to middle school,_ Malik had thought.

Second place had gone to Kouryuu Hotaru - or, as Malik now referred to her, Little-Miss-It's-All-Your-Fault. To be honest, though... he wasn't that surprised. She had done a pretty good job with her singing, and her stage presence was a force to be reckoned with. He was surprised, however, that Kouryuu hadn't gone to claim her prize. He'd then deducted that she must have left beforehand, which was why he'd stopped feeling her glare death-rays through the back of his head. At least he was pretty **sure** "death-rays" was plural...

First place had gone to none other than Yggdrasil, the current bane of Malik's existence. Of **course** Ryuuji couldn't have gotten away with shooting a holier-than-thou grin at him; oh **no**. The look he'd gotten from the blue-haired one wasn't much better either, but the other two - the blonde and the one with the single spike of brown hair - looked to be more of the 'good sport' variety. All they'd done we was shoot Malik and his bandmates simple glances, and the blonde had even approached them after all was said and done. "Hey, just want you guys to know that I thought you were pretty good," he'd said. Then he'd leaned down close to Malik and continued, "don't let Otogi get to you."

_Yeah, easy for you to say,_ the Egyptian had thought. The blonde's - Jounouchi, was it? - statement was simple, but at least it showed the four members of Plastic Samurai that there was a shred of kindness amongst Yggdrasil.

So there was the reason that Malik had for being pissed off. They'd not only gotten beaten out by Yggdrasil, but also by that Kouryuu bitch.

And as for the reason Malik had to be happy?

Warp to around ten minutes after the judges' announcements and the closing statements. The four teens were hanging out backstage, waiting for this Kujaku Mai to find them again and say what she had to say. Malik and Yami had explained to Ryou and Akihiko that the woman had wanted a word with them as a group; Akihiko's eyebrow had raised, while Ryou had merely nodded in response.

It wasn't long before the blonde woman had located them. After exchanging firm handshakes with the four boys, she'd gone to introduce herself as Kujaku Mai of the Doma Record Company - the same label who had produced Project D.O.O.M., the three-member band of chart-toppers - and she was looking for a fresh new band to manage.

"I was impressed by your performance tonight," she'd said, "but in all honestly, I can see why you didn't get much applause at the end... I think most of the audience would've rather listened to a group of cats in heat or a bizarre decapitation ritual..."

Malik hadn't been too pleased with that remark. "... Then how the hell were you **impressed** by us if you feel like--"

"Let me finish," Mai had interrupted. "You guys really do have a lot of potential, and I think with the right adjustments, the four of you could go far in the music world."

"...**Adjustments**?" Malik had questioned.

Mai had then gone on to explain that she'd recently come across some of Plastic Samurai's music while Ryuuji was still with the band, read about Ryuuji's departure, and how the boys was trying to pull the pieces back together. _**Ra**, Mazaki really drilled the info out of us,_ Malik had thought, remembering the interview they'd had about it. Even with the addition of Akihiko, as their drummer, the band had failed to recover the glory they once had. On that note, Mai had suggested that the four of them schedule a meeting with her as soon as possible to discuss certain things that could revive the band - after all, with her as a potential manager, there's no way that the boys would stay at the bottom for very long.

The four of them had been very pleased with Mai's proposal, and had eagerly scheduled an interview with her, which was to take place three days from today - this coming Monday.

And there was Malik's reason for being irrationally exuberant.

He continued to mull over the night's events, and barely even noticed when his door opened, and his sister entered the room. "Malik?" Her voice broke the Egyptian from his thoughts. Malik pulled himself up into a sitting position, as Isis sat down on the edge of the bed.

She looked a little worse for the wear - very tired, her face somewhat pale and gaunt, dark circles underneath her eyes - and Malik concluded that she'd been awake most of the night before. His sister was in poor health, and he was concerned, but it was really something to be expected. The past month had been extremely stressful for the Ishtars. Isis had been assaulted during her shift at work - Malik was 99 sure that it was at the hands of Takanaka Reiji, and if he ever met that bastard in person, he'd gut him - and Rishid, their adopted older brother and Malik's guardian, was taking Isis' place and working long hours at the local museum, in order to provide for the three of them. This was part of the reason why Malik so desperately wished for Plastic Samurai to become successful - money from the record sales would help pull his family out of the economical rut they'd been dragged into.

"How did it go tonight?" Isis asked, once again breaking her brother from his thoughts. Her voice was extremely weak and tired-sounding, but Malik tried not to let his anxiety become apparent in his voice when he answered.

He shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

Isis smiled weakly at him. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there to watch you perform," she said.

Malik leaned forward slightly. "Hey, don't worry about it," he said, trying to mask the disappointment in his voice. He really **had** wanted her to be there, but he understood if she didn't have the energy to make it. "We didn't win anyway."

"Well, I would've liked to see you, and hear your music," Isis said sadly.

"Maybe when you're in better condition?" Malik asked hopefully. Isis had seen them before, at practices, but not since her attack - likewise, not after Ryuuji had left and Akihiko had joined. Malik hoped that her health would improve a little, so she could come watch one of their rehearsals, at the very least.

Isis nodded, and gave her brother's hand an apologetic squeeze. "I'll try, brother. I promise." With that, she stood, and started walking toward the door.

"Hey, Isis?" Malik queried, causing his sister to turn back and look at him. He wanted to tell her about the talk that he and the other boys had had with Mai. "Um... tonight, there was a woman in the audience who's working with a record company. We... we scheduled an interview with her for Monday. So... if all goes well, we'll have a manager, and be under a record label..."

Isis smiled; it was one of the brightest expressions Malik had seen on her in a long while. "That's wonderful, Malik. I'll be sure to tell Rishid when he gets in," she said.

Malik grinned at her and nodded, and then Isis left the room, shutting the door behind her.

He flopped back down on the bed, gazing back up at the ceiling once again. And in that moment, he decided that he was happy instead of pissed off.

* * *

"Damnit, I **told** you you should've turned left at that stop light! Now we're fucking lost!"

"Not to mention late..."

"Yeah, and late! I don't think Kujaku was anticipating us being **late**, Kumori."

Akihiko glared at the blonde sitting in the passenger's seat. "Get off my nuts, Ishtar! I'm trying to drive here!"

"Yeah, well, stop sucking at it."

Malik, Akihiko, Ryou, and Yami were currently piled up in the redhead's car, looking for the café that Kujaku Mai had suggested they meet at. It was a small yet posh little place, and none of them had even heard of it, much less **been** there. They were currently running about ten minutes late for their interview, and all four of them - even Ryou - were just a little on edge.

"**Hey**! Get the fuck off your cellphone and **drive**!" Akihiko yelled out the window to the car that he had almost ran into. Now, Kumori Akihiko was not one to get angry. There were only three things in the world that ever angered him: 1) the Internet booting him offline in the middle of a conversation, 2) people eating his cookies, and 3) drivers other than himself. "**God**, these fuckers piss me off!"

"I'm sure they're thinking the exact same thing about you," Yami said. Somehow, over the course of the drive, he'd developed a twitch in his right eye.

"Man, what**ever**," Akihiko said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his bright purple cellphone. He quickly found the number he was looking for, and held the phone to his ear. "...Yeah, Haru? These directions you gave me are complete bullshit," he complained.

Malik, Ryou, and Yami all exchanged glances with each other. What was it that Akihiko was just saying about "getting off your cellphone and driving"? However, the three of them silently agreed that it was a pretty good idea that he was making this call. Haruhiko, Akihiko's twin sister, knew just about every place in the city. You could describe a place to her, and she'd know exactly where it was at and how to get there from her current point... and it was very strange that the directions she had given them were "complete bullshit", as her twin had put it.

"Wait, **what**? Oh fuck, no! We're looking for Café Briolette, not Café Brioche! ... Yeah, damn right you're sorry. You're not borrowing my pink-striped shirt for a **week**, Haru. ... Look, can you just get us there from here? We're almost to the corner of Fuuji and Himawari- **SHIT**!"

The other three boys yelped in surprise as Akihiko swerved, narrowly missing a telephone pole. "Dammit, Kumori! We're late enough as it is, we don't need you killing us, too!" Malik shouted, receiving a particularly nasty glare in response. Deciding that he didn't want to get on the redhead's bad side at the time - Akihiko really **would** get them killed if he kept glaring at Malik as opposed to keeping his eyes on the road - Malik kept himself occupied by angrily gazing out the passenger side window.

Ryou sighed. He'd be impressed if they even **got** there at the rate they were going.

"...Okay, good. Hey, I gotta go before I end up killing us all. ... Yeah, okay, love you too, Haru. You can borrow my shirt if you want to. ...'Kay, bye." With that, Akihiko hung up, and continued watching the road in front of him. "Damnit, I love the girl to death, but sometimes she can be such an **airhead**..."

"...Y'know, Kumori, your phone conversations never cease to amuse me," Yami said, smirking.

"Bite me, Mutou."

* * *

"Gods, I thought we'd **never** get here!"

The four teens made their way from where Akihiko's car was parked, to the small café where their potential manager was hopefully still awaiting them. They hadn't bothered to change out of their school uniforms, seeing as how their interview was scheduled for only a short time after school let out for the day - and besides, the uniforms were probably the most "professional"-looking articles of clothing any of them had.

Café Briolette was a small yet cozy little coffee house. It was dimly lit, yet the atmosphere was welcoming, and the smell of coffee and fresh baked goods wafted through the air. Malik and his friends felt a little out-of-place in there, but it was a sacrifice they'd have to make if they wanted to get through this interview. The boys scanned the area, looking to see if the blonde woman was still there. They honestly wouldn't be surprised if she'd left, they **had** been pretty late in arriving- "Over there," Ryou said, pointing to a round table in one corner of the building that was slightly larger than the others.

Indeed, Kujaku Mai was sitting there, sipping at a cup of something topped with whipped cream - probably coffee - and reading the latest issue of Shoxx. The four boys made their way to the table she was sitting at, weaving in-between the smaller tables, and she looked up from her magazine upon hearing a thumping noise, followed by a string of foreign obscenities. "Hey, I thought you four weren't going to make it," she said, standing up and shaking the hand of each of them - or, she would've shook hands with Malik if he wasn't currently holding his leg in pain and uttering Arabic curses under his breath.

Akihiko ran a hand through his mop of red-orange hair, smirking to himself. "Got caught in traffic," he said, shrugging.

"**Traffic**? That's a load of bull," Malik said bitterly, having recovered from banging his shin on the chair in front of him. "We got lost 'cause this one's sister gave us directions to the wrong place," he threw a sidelong glance in Akihiko's general direction, emphasizing his point.

The redhead merely grinned, ignoring Malik - though he made a mental note to get back at him later for that remark. "Well, at least we got here."

"Right, right," Mai said, nodding. "So," she gestured toward the table she had been sitting at, "have a seat?" After all four of them seated themselves around said table, she took her seat as well, putting her magazine away and taking out the same lavender stationary pad she'd used back at the talent show. "Now... I just want to ask each of you a few questions, and some as a whole group, and just answer to the best of your ability. Is that okay?"

Unbeknownst to the four members of Plastic Samurai, someone else was listening in on their interview. While this person was sitting a couple of tables away, everything was perfectly audible to them. Unfortunately, they weren't there voluntarily - and it showed, as the eavesdropper's chin was being propped up by a slender arm, and the free hand boredly plucked at a half-eaten cinnamon bun sitting on the table in front of them.

The basic questions were asked - what inspired them to bring Plastic Samurai together, what is the driving force behind the band, et cetera. Malik, as self-proclaimed leader of the band, answered them for the most part, though when a question came up about Ryuuji's departure from the band, he held his tongue - he didn't enjoy discussing this subject. Neither did Yami or Ryou, and the former of the two also refused to give any input, leaving Ryou to answer for them. It was probably for the best, anyway, since Ryou was the most calm out of the three "originals" - Malik or Yami probably would've started swearing or wishing death upon Ryuuji.

When the individual questions came about, Malik, Yami, and Ryou's answers were pretty similar - after all, they'd been in the band since it had first started. Akihiko was the exception since he had only been with them for about a month and a half, and when asked how he'd joined up with the others, he laughed into the tale with a big grin on his face..

"Well... 's kind of a funny story, actually," he said, running a hand through his short red-orange hair. "See, we had this test in History, and since History's my best subject, I breezed through it in no time. So I was just sitting there bored afterward, and I started tapping my pencil on the desk like everyone else does. The teacher yelled at me every time I got a good rhythm going though, which really sucked, and I ended up getting put in detention. Funny thing is, Ishtar there had a detention scheduled for the same day, for skipping class or something," he received a glare from the aforementioned Egyptian, "and before the teacher came in we got into a conversation. We'd been in the same class, but we never spoke, so it was kinda awkward, but he was like 'yeah, you sound like you're musically inclined, do you do any of that stuff for real' and I'm like 'yeah, I play the drums'. And I guess the rest is history. 'Scuse the pun."

Ryou smiled sheepishly. "Kumori-kun... have you ever heard the phrase 'to cut a long story short'?"

Mai simply grinned at them, crossing her arms over her chest. "I thought that was a funny little story, to be honest... it's definitely a unique induction into the band. The other bands I've interviewed never had such interesting stories of how their newbies joined - most of them were just 'oh, we held auditions for drummers and guitarists and whatnot'. But your story... it seems a lot more personal than anything else I ever heard. I like that."

That said, a few more questions were asked, and then the interview started to draw to a close.

"You know... I like you guys," Mai said, folding her arms and slightly leaning across the tabletop. "When do you plan on having your next practice?"

Malik scratched his chin. "Well... we normally practice every other day, but since we came here today, the next practice is on Wednesday-"

"Wednesday is great," Mai said excitedly, jotting something down on her stationary pad. "Do you mind if I drop by to watch you? I'd like to see what you guys are like without the stress of being watched by two hundred people," she said, winking at them.

Akihiko, Ryou, and Malik all turned to Yami for an answer, since their practices were held in the basement of his home. He shrugged his shoulders, looking fairly indifferent about the whole situation. "Sure," he replied. He then gave Mai instructions on how to get there.

"Excellent," Mai said, writing the directions down. "If all goes well, you boys will have yourselves a manager!"

The five people at the table stood, and the four band members all thanked Mai for taking the time to interview them. She shook their hands again, and the boys exited the café. Mai seated herself at the table again, looking over her shoulder at the occupant of a nearby table. Said occupant stood up, walked over to Mai's table, and sat down in the seat directly across from her.

"Well... I'm sure you heard everything," she said. "What do you think?"

"I think you're fucking crazy."

* * *

"I think that went pretty well," Ryou said as he shut the car door behind him. "Kujaku-san seemed really impressed."

Malik leaned back in the front passenger's seat, crossing his arms behind his head. He was in a considerably better mood than he was before the interview. "Hell yeah," he said, grinning. "Plus, she's coming to watch our practice on Wednesday, so that's a pretty good sign."

"We'd better knock her socks off then, huh?" Akihiko asked, starting up the car.

Yami wasn't too sure of that. His brows furrowed in thought for a couple of moments. "I dunno... remember the other night, when she said that we could be a really great band if we made a few 'adjustments'? I'm wondering what she meant by that."

Akihiko simply shrugged, as he backed out of the parking space. "Probably something minor, like do something more original."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well..." the redhead flushed, giving his whole head a tomatolike appearance. "I don't mean to diss your music or anything, Mutou, 'cause it's really good, but... don't you think it sounds a little too mainstream?"

"Woah, it's about time someone agreed with me," Malik said, clapping a hand onto Akihiko's shoulder. "I'm thinking that we really should try to deviate from the norm. We should do something that's... a little more interesting, I think."

Ryou leaned against the back of Malik's seat. "Yeah... maybe that's what Kujaku-san meant. Yami-kun, do you remember how when Otogi-kun was with us, how you, he, and Malik-kun would all sing together? That was something new and enjoyable that all of the fans liked. When Otogi-kun left and it was just Malik-kun singing, I think that's what happened... we started sounding too commonplace in the musical world, so we just sort of faded into the background."

Yami nodded in understanding. "How come you guys never said anything before?"

"I guess we didn't really get to thinking about it until Kujaku mentioned making 'adjustments'," Malik said, shrugging. He reached over and turned a knob, turning the radio on. "This station is always playing cool stuff that's not your average music. You'll see what I mean if you just listen."

The song that was playing was a fairly hard rock song that seemed to have orchestration integrated into it. Malik guessed that it was near the middle of the song.

_And within the depths of my soul, I come to realize  
__That you and I were never meant to be_

"See? You don't hear this kind of music every day. We need to do stuff that's more like this, but with our own little twist, y'know?" Malik said.

"Yeah, I get it," Yami said, nodding again. "Maybe I'll let one of you guys handle writing the music. As long as I can play my bass, it's all good to me."

_So before the crack of dawn  
__Before you'll be gone  
__One more time, won't you sin with me?_

The song then ended, abruptly shifting to a quiet acoustic guitar rift in 3/4 time. The DJ's voice enthusiastically came after the riff faded into silence. "And that was 'Sin' from Yggdrasil's new album, entitled 'Brain Damage'! Go and pick yourself up a copy if you haven't already!"

"That song was pretty good," Ryou said.

"Yeah," Malik agreed.

And then, realization hit all four of them like a ton of bricks, and Akihiko slammed on the brakes - luckily, right as they hit a stop light.

"Wait, **what**?"

* * *

"How are the sales on the new album doing?"

"Excellent, Otogi-san. We've already sold over five thousand copies," the voice on the other end of the telephone said.

Otogi Ryuuji smirked, nodding in approval. "Good. Listen, I want you to do something for me," he said, leaning back in his desk chair. He was staring at his computer screen, which displayed a certain website set up by a certain band he'd abandoned a few months ago. "There's somebody I want you to send a CD to, free of charge..." A devious grin spread across his lips as he thought of this plan. "I'll get the address for you tomorrow, but just consider this a... personal favor."

The voice on the other end seemed hesitant for a few moments before speaking again. "...Ooookay, whatever you say, Otogi-san. You realize that's a loss of three thousand yen right there, correct?"

Ryuuji merely scoffed. "With all of the copies we're selling, what's three thousand yen? I'm sure the recipient of this CD will be rather pleased... so you'll do it, then?"

"Of course," the voice on the phone replied. "If you don't care, then whatever."

"Good. I'd like to see the look on Ishtar's face when he gets it... I'm sure he'll be thrilled to know how successful I've been since I left him and his pathetic bandmates behind."

"I'm sure that can be arranged, Otogi-san."

"Oh, don't waste your time on **that**. I know perfectly well how he'd react to it..."

"I wasn't planning on it."

"I see."

"Well then, I'll talk to you tomorrow, Otogi-san. Good night."

"Good night, Takanaka-san."

* * *

The next day, a very angry Malik Ishtar found himself a new drink coaster. 


End file.
